


Seasons

by candygramme



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:01:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9088114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candygramme/pseuds/candygramme
Summary: Four vignettes, one for each season of 2016





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [norawJ2](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=norawJ2).



> Title: Seasons  
> Gifter: candygramme  
> Giftee: norawj2  
> Rating: NC17  
> Pairing: J2  
> Word Count: ~3,800  
> Warnings: schmoop  
> Beta: My trusty and amazing spoonlessone  
> Summary: The J's from season to season
> 
> A/N Written for the Xmas gift exchange.

SPRING  
The Vernal Equinox doesn’t seem to make much difference to a cold, damp Vancouver. There has been rain for much of the winter, and the perpetual grey of the leaden sky, the constant reminder that this is not his home, makes Jensen want to stay in his trailer and sleep it all away.

He’s never seen so much mud, and the scripts they are getting seem determined to ensure that Dean is plastered in the stuff every time he’s dragged onto set. He’s not usually such a miserable son of a bitch, but he can’t help wishing that he was in Austin, where the weather is fair, or even L.A. He’s never really liked L.A., but at least it’s warm there, warm, and possibly sunny too above the smog.

He wraps himself in a blanket that’s been gifted to him by a fan and slumps down to wait, apathetic, for the next take, and the next. He’s drifting off into a comatose state that’s almost, but not exactly unlike sleep, when the trailer door is flung open unceremoniously.

Enter Jared.

Jensen sighs. He loves his co-star, he does. He adores him. Jared’s his best friend, his lover, his everything, but he just doesn’t have the energy right now.

“Hey, you’ve gotta come see. Sheppard’s up on the ceiling in his skivvies, and nobody will let him down...” Jared tails off, takes a good look at Jensen and frowns. “Come on, dude. I’m supposed to be the depressive one!”

“Don’t wanna.” Jensen slouches forlornly; his face peeking out of the top of the blanket makes him look like a human burrito. “It’s raining.”

“It’s always raining. This is Vancouver.” Jared sits down beside his co-star and slides an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, Jen-jen, Jennybean, Jen...”

He’s interrupted as Jensen squirms to get an arm out of his cocoon. “If you call me Jenny, you’re dead meat,” he growls. The wildly thrashing arm is held pinioned by Jared, who cackles as he grips Jensen’s flailing body and hauls him up to toss him over his shoulder.

“Haha! You’re in my power now. Nothing you can do about it!”

Jensen’s torn between screeching and fighting, or merely hurling invective at his large, lunatic lover. He settles on the invective after considering what might happen if Jared were to drop him, all wrapped up as he is. With his arms held prisoner inside the blanket he would likely fall on his face, and make-up would hate him forever.

So he roundly curses Jared, dwelling with lurid detail upon the fate that will await him if and when he next finds Jared sleeping. All the while, Jared is steadily making his way from the trailer to the studio, where the lights are being set up for the next scene.

The day is monochrome, the rain lashing spitefully against the trailer, the ground, and, “God dammit, Jared, my ass is getting soaked!”

“You love it,” laughs Jared, although he does speed up a little and soon managed to get his sausage-like burden into the relative warmth and dryness of the studio.

Inside the comparative warmth of the studio, Jared dumps his spluttering, protesting burden down on a chair and runs, leaving Jensen to unwind himself from his now soggy wrappings. He’s back before Jensen’s totally free, bearing with him a large mug filled with hot chocolate containing the kind of decadence that shouldn’t be permitted. There’s cream and marshmallows, and the faint scent of rum emanating from the mug.

“That’s the cure for winter blues,” says Jared, his heart in his eyes as he watches the irritated expression on Jensen’s face reluctantly slide away as he inhales the fragrance emanating from the drink.

Jensen sips, licks—not too successfully—at the cream moustache it gives him, and shakes his head.

“You’re trying to make me fat. Will you still love me when my ass takes over Burnaby?”  
Jared grins and waits until Jensen’s face is buried in his delicious drink.

“You know I do, babe. You know I do!”

Then he runs.

SUMMER

It's ACL, and it’s dark in the arena. There are crowds of other people around them, but they could be alone, so cocooned in their own private space are they. The music is making Jensen shift, hips bucking as he gets into the song. Jared wants to follow suit; he wants to watch, isn't sure he knows the band, but their good, steady pounding beat is causing him to twitch his own long, limbs.

She's gonna drive you crazy, yeah she's coming for ya, no, she don't mess around

And he mentally changes the 'she' to ‘he’ as he sings along. He’s watching Jensen move, watching the sinuous grace of the man who is everything in the world that matters to him. His eyes fill with adoration for his other half. God, I love you. The rest of this sorry planet just doesn't know what they’re missing. Once you go Jensen, you can never go back.

Jensen reads his thoughts. It's the only explanation, because he turns his head to look at Jared with big, soulful eyes full of the dark, and the joy of the driving music, and love. Jared wants to run his hands over Jensen's body, wants to claim him in front of the whole audience, Cage the Elephant and everyone. He doesn't. Instead he wipes his hand across his forehead where the bandana is tied but sticky with sweat, smiles back at Jensen, big and fierce and reaches into his pocket for his cigarette case.

"You gonna do that now?" Jensen watches him take out a spliff, watches him set it between his lips, long fingers adjusting it until it's just so. Sees him drag in the fragrant smoke and says nothing.

"Steve said this is the best." He holds the smoke in his lungs until he's bursting to breathe.

"Steve should know. I think he's pickled in the stuff." Jensen's tone is dry, but he smiles as Jared hands off the joint to him, lips folding around it like pillows embracing a weary traveller. Jared watches, head buzzing, high, half from the joint and half from gazing at Jensen. He wants. God, how he wants!

Jensen hands it back to him, the end a little moist, and Jared shivers. All the things they could do if only...

"Yeah. It's good stuff. Tell him we could use more. I'm getting a buzz already." Jensen is smiling, his body moving more freely as he listens to the music.

The lights dim, and the music slows as the band sings about ‘Trouble’, and Jared takes a hit, sucking down the smoke, thinking, 'Dare I?'

He's never turned down a dare, not even from himself. He holds the smoke, hand off the joint to Jensen and reaches to take that handsome face between his hands, thumbs at Jensen's jaw and fingers encircling his head, guiding, turning his face up as he bends, conscious of the need to hurry, before his common sense tells him it’s a bad idea.

Jensen doesn't protest, and Jared takes his time, sealing his lips over Jensen's, warm and soft, plush. He tastes first, running his tongue around those pillowy lips, then exhales, passing the smoke to Jensen, chasing it with his tongue in an effort to have everything he wants. Jensen holds the smoke, returns it and then backs away.

"How will you explain all the photos that are gonna hit Tumblr tomorrow?" he asks, taking a final hit, and Jared thinks Jensen is just waiting for him to attack his mouth once again, so he does. Hands again, controlling, wanting that mouth against his. He doesn't have to wait for long, because it's right there for him, a little moist from the pink tongue that makes them shine. Jared descends on Jensen's lips voraciously, owning his mouth as he takes, inhales, sucking kisses and smoke from Jensen in equal measure. He's hard as iron, body lusting for more even though he wouldn't dare to take things further. Not here. Not on their home turf.

"Gonna tell them to mind their own fucking business," Jared snickers, smoke diffusing as it escapes with his breath. "Don't have to explain myself to anyone. I've decided that it's just you and I, and the rest of the world can go fuck itself."

"K." Jensen doesn't appear to be concerned. The lights are coming up again now as the band finishes their set and departs the stage. Under the flare of neon Jared can tell that Jensen's also got a boner.

"Wanna go find somewhere to take the edge off that?" asks Jared, eyes flicking down to where Jensen's dick is moistening the front of his jeans.

"Not a good idea." Jensen's shaking his head. "Think about it. First we're kissing, and then we take off to the bathroom together? Definitely not a good plan."

"Aww..." Jared rolls his shoulders, takes a breath and then grins. "But I'm hungry."

Outside, the glare of the sun is shocking after the shadowy embrace of the concert space. They walk together, arms touching as they go.

The blood sings in Jared’s veins, and he wants – oh, god, he wants. Jensen smirks at him, a little sideways glance that tells Jared that he knows just what he’s doing to his partner, and Jared’s had enough. He steers Jensen around the corner to Patagonia Austin, the first mens’ outfitters he can find and into the store to fumble through the racks until he finds a couple of shirts and a pair of jeans to try on.

“Seriously?” hisses Jensen, and Jared thrusts a pale green shirt made from some silky fabric that is spun with gold threads into his hands.

“Try it,” he growls, his voice husky. “Wanna see you in it.”

Jensen laughs. “More like out of it, I reckon.”

“That too,” mutters Jared as he leads his way to the changing room.

No sooner are they inside than Jared has Jensen backed up against the door, growling softly as he nips and kisses his way down Jensen’s neck. Jensen chuckles, his nimble fingers busily working on the belt Jared’s wearing. Jared had hung up the clothing he’d picked out, but the green shirt lies forgotten on the floor as Jensen pushes his hand inside Jared’s underwear to find his swollen cock and squeeze it, thumb working to spread the pearling moisture that’s oozing from the tip.

Jared’s eyelids flutter, and he cups Jensen’s cheeks, kiss-biting at those soft, pink lips as Jensen works him. Mouths fusing as Jared consumes him.

“What do you want?” Jensen’s voice is soft, mumbled around the roughness of Jared’s scruff when they finally pull apart enough to catch their breath.

“Wanna fuck you so hard.”

“Do it then. What’s holding you up?” Jensen doesn’t answer. He moves fast, shoving his jeans down around his ankles and turning to lean his elbows up against the door. Jared gasps, but it doesn’t take him long to bend and tongue Jensen open. He’s loose, the slut, slippery and well stretched! He’s been teasing Jared, and this whole thing is premeditated. Jared slides into him and it feels like he’s coming home, invasion of hot, slippery flesh making him utter a little, choked-off groan. He can feel the tingles from his groin all the way up his spine to the base of his skull.

He fumbles around to find Jensen’s dick, catching hold of it even though he’s almost too far gone to concentrate on setting a rhythm for his lover. He’s close, plunging in against Jensen, driving himself deep and striving to get even closer, even deeper, wanting to find a place somewhere inside Jensen that will allow him to stay there forever.

Of course, that place doesn’t actually exist. Their lovemaking doesn’t last long. It’s been bubbling up for too long. He grips Jensen tight, fingers bruising as he fucks, his forehead pressed tight between Jensen’s shoulder-blades. His chest is tight, and he breathes short, sharp, biting his lip against the urge to cry out.

Jensen gasps, stiffens, clenches tight around him, and Jared’s suddenly gone, the flare of sweet, tingly bliss suffusing him as his body takes over, pouring himself into Jensen.

There’s a moment’s pause, then they slowly shift apart. Jensen snickers. “Got any Kleenex?”

Together they look down to where the silky green shirt is lying. Then Jensen reluctantly shakes his head.

"You're not gonna use the shirt, you heathen!" As if he hadn't been calculating the odds of doing that exact same thing.  
Jensen sighs and sacrifices his boxers to the necessary task of clean-up, and as they finally leave the store, they each have a new shirt.

Jared’s, of course, is pink.

FALL

Jensen’s singing. Jared loves listening to him sing. Jensen’s always so self-deprecating about his ability to sing, to play, but Jared watches his fingers as they slide over the neck of his guitar, nimble as he gifts the world with a shower of notes, his voice sweet and liquid above them as he sings.

They’re on location, waiting for the lighting guru to be satisfied with the set, and Jared is contented. The heat of the early afternoon spreads heavy air over the ground, pressing down him as he lies full length in the long grass. Sun shimmers dance in the air around them both; small insects glitter in the hazy distance, and close by, a damselfly flickers, iridescent blue-green as she makes the most of her short life.

The dry, green-brown of wild oats dance about their heads, and all but conceal Jared from casual glances. He’s taken the opportunity to remove the plaid shirt Sam wears, and he’s lying on his stomach, the sweat from his body dampening the T- shirt he’s wearing, forming a dark stain like a cross on his back. No doubt Wardrobe will grumble at him, but they know he sweats. Dammit, he’s famous for it.

“How come you don’t sweat, Jensen?”

“What the hell? I sweat. I’m just discreet about it, not all drippy and smelly like certain members of the cast.” Jensen strums gently, nothing recognizable as a song, but it makes a pleasant backdrop to the lazy feel of the afternoon.

“Are you saying that I’m smelly?” Jared’s pout is epic, and Jensen chuckles deep in his chest.

“You prefer ‘fragrant’? We could call it fragrant if you like.”

“You love my musk! “ Jared pushes himself up to his knees and lunges at Jensen, armpits aimed at his co-star’s head.

“Mind my guitar, you great moose!” Jensen hastily sets the instrument aside, and not a moment too soon. Jared is on him, one hand pulling Jensen’s head and the other flung wide as he attempts to shove Jensen’s face into contact with his sweat-stained pit.

“Tell me you love me!” Jared crows as he succeeds in smooshing Jensen against him. “Tell me that I smell of roses!”

“Oh, my GOD! You’re killing me. I’m dead.” Jensen turns limp in Jared’s arms, and Jared loosens his grip for a second. That’s all it takes for Jensen to break free, rolling them over, thankfully away from Jensen’s guitar.

He bends to steal a kiss, soft as a whisper, then rubs his sweaty face against Jared’s. “Here. Try it for yourself, you big bully!”

Jared inhales, deeply, enthusiastically. “Aaaahhh! Roses, I tell you. Delicious!”

He pushes Jensen off him and while Jensen is reclaiming his guitar he hauls himself up so he’s sitting. “Sing to me,” he says, his eyes a mix of glee and desire. “Sing me something pretty.”

Jensen considers and then launches into ‘Just Breathe’, a little smile on his face as Jared throws his arms up in the air and cheers.

“Yes, I understand that every life must end,  
As we sit alone, I know someday we must go,  
yeah, I'm a lucky man to count on both hands  
The ones I love...”

They’re looking at each other, eyes gazing into eyes and the silent message of the love they have for each other written on their faces as Jensen’s voice soars above the drowsy buzz of the sunny afternoon. There’s no need for words. They are together, and for a moment they do just breathe.

WINTER

Christmas is almost here. The weather hasn’t been kind in the past few days. They are out in the valley on location, and there’s no need for fake snow today. The tumbledown shack Sam and Dean are supposed to have spent the night in is covered in the stuff. The roof is creaking with the weight of the snow on it, and they are really cold. The sun is out and the sky is bright and clear, but it’s only 25F, and Jared just knows that Jensen is freezing his assets off. Between takes, they are supplied with warm parkas, but in the interests of getting the scene done quickly, they can’t just return to their trailer. They do take after take, but the director just isn’t satisfied.

Sighing, Jared watches as Jensen peels off his gloves and parka. He’s got a hot water bottle that Wardrobe just brought him stuffed down the back of his jeans, covered by the plaid shirt and the thin cotton jacket that Dean wears, and that seems to help. At least Jared thinks his core will be warm even though his extremities appear -from the grimace on his beloved's face- to be in danger of dropping off.

Jared seems to radiate heat even in this weather, and he hands his parka to the PA without groaning. Jensen mutters, 'showoff!' but Jared knows Jensen really wants to snuggle up to him, suck all the heat out of him and bask. Instead he finds his mark and stands ready. Jared, beside him, squeezes his hand. “This time, we’ll rock it!” before settling himself into Sam’s headspace, ready for the director to call ‘Action’.

The scene is finally nailed to the director’s satisfaction, and everyone sighs with relief as the crew begin to pack up the equipment. The two men pile into the Land Rover that brought them out here, and Clif hops in to drive them back to civilization.

~*~

Later, back in the apartment that serves as home for them during filming, they kick off their boots, and Jensen goes to pour them each a healthy shot of whiskey.

Outside, the snow has started again, lazy flakes drifting down past the window as they settle themselves. Jared’s lounging back on the couch, socked feet propped up on the coffee table as he watches Jensen cross the room bearing his drink to him. The wave of his arm indicates that he wants Jensen to sit next to him, and when Jensen takes his seat, he wraps it around Jensen’s shoulders. Jensen sighs as he snuggles up against Jared.

“You’re my central heating, dude. Always so warm. Love you!”

Whiskey kisses follow, long, slow exploration of each other’s mouths, so well known, so very well loved. Jared lies back, pulls Jensen over him to cover him like a blanket as they lick and kiss. The lights from the Christmas tree dapple Jensen's face with little spots of color, and Jared kisses them all, one by one.

“You tickle!” Jared cups Jensen’s cheeks and presses a kiss to the tip of his nose. “I didn’t know just how lucky I was when I took this job. I feel like I won the lottery. Even on a day like today, I turn around and see you, and my heart does gymnastics.”

“Is that right?” Jared can see that tiny smile on Jensen’s lips, the one that lifts just the right hand corner of his mouth, like he’s got a secret he might just be talked into sharing. He settles against Jared, moving his hips to stir up arousal in his partner. His hands slide around Jared’s slim waist to grip firm buttocks and pull him tight as his thigh slips between Jared’s legs to apply pressure.

It doesn’t take long for Jared to get with the program. Once he’s on board things become passionate very quickly, and before Jensen can protest, the two of them are on the floor, entwined as they rock together. Jensen takes charge, pulling and tugging at Jared’s clothing to get rid of it, tossing it up onto the couch as he kisses each newly uncovered square of flesh. He mouths at pert brown nipples, sucking each on till it peaks and bites down on them to feel Jared shiver.

Lower, he rims Jared’s navel, places kisses down the join between torso and thigh, and finally, when Jared starts to beg, he focuses on Jared’s cock, tasting it before finally closing his lips around it and sucking it into his mouth.

“Oh, God, Jen! Right there!” Jared arches against Jensen, trying to fuck his face, but Jensen’s expecting it, presses him down and redoubles his assault on Jared’s dick.

Jared can feel himself getting there, whimpers a little and raises his knees, dropping them wide in mute invitation. Jensen works his way down to lick and widen Jared, fingers groping for the lube that he knows is tucked down the side of the couch.  
It doesn’t take long for Jared to start begging, wanting Jensen to hurry, but Jensen keeps on teasing, fingers pressing Jared open. Finally, Jared surges up, rolls them over and climbs to straddle his lover, gets into position and places himself over Jensen’s cock. He slides down, bottoming out as his own dick bobs in front of Jensen. As he begins to move, Jensen licks his hand and starts to jerk him off. The light from their tree bathes them in color, and Jensen’s bathed in red and gold, highlighting the planes of his face until he looks like a pagan god, demanding sacrifice.

When Jared comes, it’s sudden, explosive, and he covers Jensen’s chest and face with pearly white spatters. Jensen grips his lover’s thighs with fingers of steel as he drives up into him, short, stabbing thrusts that rock Jared through his aftershocks. Three or four thrusts later, he’s coming, gasping out his ‘I love yous’ as Jared feels Jensen melting into him. He knows that Jensen is his only, and this, right here, is his home.

He turns to Jensen and smiles, his dimples in full force. “Lucky,” he murmurs.

“Huh?”Jensen’s still panting a little, rosy flush to his cheeks and a faint sheen of sweat across his chest.

“Just sayin’, babe. You’re so lucky to have me...”

And as Jensen growls, and feints towards him, ready to commit mayhem on his person, Jared cackles and dashes for safety.

They both know that their love for each other has brought them this far, and they have no worries that it’s going to change. Jared knows that when Jensen catches him, he will kiss him stupid, and he’s happy for that. Jensen’s his soulmate.

That’s just the way it will always be.


End file.
